Actually the person the young engineer desired most to consult was the road’s chief detective. But he heard nothing of that gentleman that day or in the evening when he went down town early. There was a buzz of excitement about the terminal offices, however, and Ralph learned that while he had slept at home several important events had occurred. The police had raided the old tenement in which Ralph and Zeph Dallas had had their adventure at night with Whitey Malone and the chief strike leaders, Andy McCarrey and Griffin Falk. Intoxicated men coming out of the place had been seen and a supply of liquor was found in the very upstairs room into which Ralph had peered. But the attempt to arrest McCarrey or Falk in the place had failed. They had been warned of the raid and had got out. Indeed, it was believed they had left town. Another important thing was that Jim Perrin of the old shopmen’s union had been suspended from his office. Certain men who had been close to the traitorous Perrin were likewise under a cloud, especially Billy Lyon, Abe Bertholdt, Mike Ranny and Sam Peters. The split in the shopmen’s union was being healed. It was even prophesied by some that the wildcat strike would be ended as far as the shopworkers of Rockton were concerned within a few hours. These bits of news were encouraging in a general way, but Ralph Fairbanks’ interest lay in an entirely different direction now. Much as he had been worried about railroad affairs, in his mind the disappearance of Cherry Hopkins at the scene of the wreck in Shadow Valley loomed up as being far more important. Ralph went up to the dispatchers’ offices to talk over the schedule with his substitute, and, also, to learn of any news that might be rife in that department. Naturally, the boys there knew little about Supervisor Hopkins and his troubles. “Just the same, the lads tell me,” said Johnny, who was Ralph’s old assistant, “that Hopkins is getting rattled. He has stopped hunting for faults to correct in our division system. They say he’s got a sick wife and that his girl has run away from him.” “Bother gossip!” exclaimed Ralph heatedly. “Miss Hopkins has been kidnapped, if anybody should ask you. No doubt of that. I am sorry for Hopkins.” As he went down to the train-shed platform he passed the door of the telegraph room. The operator had just been called to the instrument. Ralph could not resist halting to listen. He was a quick and perfect reader of the sounder. And almost instantly his interest was caught and held by the message coming over the wire. In the first place it came from Timber Brook. At this hour Timber Brook Station, near the spot where Thirty-three had been wrecked, should be closed for the night. The message came haltingly. The operator sending seemed to be a regular “ham,” as the telegraph fraternity call a poor sender. But Ralph could not mistake the meaning of what came over the wire: